The Port To Port Slaughter
by Crystal9878
Summary: E.J has been killed. The team is falling apart, piece by piece, whilst trying to catch the man who killed her. But now he is targeting the people who are closest to them.Rated M for Self-Injury, Sex, and Mature Themes.
1. Chapter 1

E.J lay beneath him, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream. The barrel of his gun pressed bruisingly into the hollow of her jaw.

Her mind flashed back, on the last image she could ever want to hold, and it wasn't of her father, who had held and loved her, it wasn't of her mother, the faint memory's she had of her before she died. It wasn't of her twin sister, Alicia.

No, in death she held the image of the last man to say he had loved her, with his sparkling green eyes, and white smile. And as she felt Jonah's hand tighten on the trigger, she said his name. It was just a whisper, but it was enough to hold her through as pain exploded in her, and then, then there was nothing at all.

But an echo of the name that she had in fact screamed in death, not whispered, still lingered as he walked away, her blood staining his military uniform.

"_Tony!"_

She had screamed, as her blue eyes had gone lifeless.

….

He felt numbed.

Like a hole in him had opened, and swallowed everything that mattered. He felt nothing, because nothing was better than anything.

Even as he saw her blood and brain matter splatter on the asphalt of the building, even as he heard her scream his name in those final moments, he couldn't feel.

Then, when Abby's hand touched his shoulder, is when it hit him. Like a baseball in the face of a seven year old kid, it hit him hard, and he jerked with the force of it.

E.J was dead.

He saw that on the monitor, he saw the killer stand, and walk away, ignoring his usual routine. This kill was not for the thrill and superiority he rode on, but more for survival. He had been hunted, and the prey had become predator, predator had become prey, and had died.

He felt his eyes swell with tears, but fought viciously to hold them back, as he saw Ziva's cheeks covered in them. Her back shuddered, as she ran out of the room, cursing vehemently in Hebrew as she ran.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but he knew it was long enough for Abby and McGee to go get Gibbs, because a moment later, he felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder, his grief tangible in the decked out décor of Abby's lab.

"DiNozzo." He said, pain evident in his usually impassive voice.

And it was that one word, that simple one show of affection that caused him to crumble, to break, and for the first time in 18 years, he cried. He simply cried, and felt the tears stream down his face, and he didn't even try to stop them, didn't even give a fuck for that matter.

So when Gibbs held him, like a father would a son, he held him back, in the silent grief of two friends who had just lost people they loved.

"DiNozzo, we have to turn off the monitor." Gibbs said, pushing him back.

In Gibbs' icy blue eyes, he saw compassion, and though he was surprised to admit it, pain. Gibbs was in pain, and that right there proved the whole world was falling apart.

Though he didn't know how he did it, he took a final look at E.J's broken form, her blonde hair matted with blood and god knows what else, then he forced his finger to press the little off button, and watched as the screen went black.

"Where's Ziva?" he asked quietly, knowing that he had to do this, not matter how painful.

"She's in the bathroom, Tony," Gibbs added, as he started to leave the room. "She needs some time alone, some time to collect herself."

Tony sighed, he had expected to hear this, and he knew his cheeks were still tearstained, and his eyes probably looked like a Christmas tree, with the green mixing with the bright red rims, and his heart still ached for E.J, and he felt like he was going to crumble any minute, but that made this all the more right timing.

"Boss, she's not gonna wanna be alone right now. And I'm not very collected either, which makes us perfect for each other right now."

And with that, he left Abby's lab, and headed for the girls washroom.

On the way there, the tears fell again, as he walked past E.J's desk, and saw her belongings still lying there, as though she might return any minute, but he knew she wouldn't return.

Ever.

So he kept himself going, and when he got there, he didn't bother to knock, but just flung open the door, and walked right in, fully preparing for what he was going to see.

Ziva had her head clutched in her hands, as she lay on the floor, her back pressed against the wall.

In that moment, she had never ever looked so vulnerable, so much like…. Like a woman, he supposed.

So he sat down beside her, and took her in his arms, like he had in the elevator, which seemed like years ago, even though it had not even been an hour.

"Why?" she asked, so quietly, he could barely hear her, as her tears soaked his shirt, as they mingled with his own on his shoulder.

"Goddamnit, _why?"_ she all but croaked it, burying her head into his chest again.

"God, Ziva, if I only knew." He said, leaning his head on top of hers.

"I told you I couldn't take much more of it, and I was telling the truth Tony. First Mike, now E.J, it makes me wonder if you or I will be next." She spoke through a veil of pain, her dark hair now loose from its ponytail, and curled riotously around her tear stained face.

"Hell, Ziva, I told her I loved her, I slept with her, I kissed her lips, and for a while, I thought you might be right, that I had always just needed to find the one, and now that one is lying dead on a cobblestone street, with her blue eyes staring open, and a heart I had once cherished, now as still as stone, her blonde hair all covered in blood and brain matter, and I don't know what to do." As he said this, tears began to fall again, like a never ending waterfall of grief.

"I suppose the only thing we can do is pick ourselves up and move on. Life will continue, and we have others we need to protect, and Tony, I think E.J truly loved you back, she screamed your name in her final moments, and then that bastard had the guts and indiscrimination to kill her, to slaughter her, no different than a lamb on an altar." As she said this, she slowly got to her feet, pulling him up with her, and taking his hands in hers.

"We are going to defeat him, Tony. If it is the last thing we do."


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually, they had to wash up and leave the bathroom, both of their eyes swollen, and Ziva leaning against him as they walked back down to Abby's lab.

Her breath was still laboured, and she still had red rims against her deep brown eyes, but in those eyes, was a steely determination he had learned to both fear and respect.

Ziva always got her man.

As they walked into the unusually quiet lab, and saw Abby standing, staring blankly at one of her computer screens, Tony flinched. It seemed that Abby had turned the monitor back on, and was staring at the fill in agents who stood there, covering the crime scene, walking carefully around E.J's broken form.

"Abby." Ziva said quietly, and Abby jumped and turned around, eyeing them with pale cheeks and wide, green eyes.

In a flash, she had walked over and had both of them in her arms. Her grip was tight, and although the hug was like chicken noodle soup for a bad cold, Tony was finding it hard to breathe.

"Abbs, I can't breathe." He said finally, and she stepped away, crying.

"You guys, I'm so, so sorry. About E.J, about Franks, about every goddamn person who has suffered because of that monster." She said, sounding like an older, more jaded version of the happy go lucky Goth girl he knew and loved.

Abby had always been like a little sister to him, with her punk rocker style, and energetic, happy light, she had always been the one to hang around if you were looking for fun.

But now she looked sad and broken, grieving for the loss of two friends, in such a short time.

"It is alright, Abby." Ziva said quietly, stroking her pigtailed black hair, like a mother would to her child, then stepped towards the monitor.

He knew that she was going to see what would haunt him for the rest of his life, but then again, Ziva had always been stronger than him emotionally, and though he hated to admit it, she was stronger than him physically too.

"Ziva, turn that off." He said quietly, then walked over to the spinning red chair and sat down, wishing he had a strong shot of bourbon to go with it.

"Have you got anything?" he asked Abby, pretending not to see as she swiped her tears away.

"Yeah, he was definitely the Port to Port Killer, and I think Gibbs was right about the idea that he was luring E.J, because there was no vehicle outside of the building, so he must have had time to park it elsewhere, and then walk there, long before E.J and her men got there."

She said this like she was reading it off a script, there was no emotion in her husky voice, no laughter or tangents of other topics.

Then she whirled on him, her eyes sparking dangerously.

"Who the _hell _could do anything this horrible, this monstrous, out of pure spite? Who the _fuck_ would want to kill anyone as friendly as Franks or as loyal as E.J? Who is he? _What is he?"_ she said this all in a rush, and then flew forwards into his arms, crying against his shoulder, not unlike Ziva had.

However, Ziva watched him now, and she felt a strange rush of compassion, as she saw him try to comfort there mutual friend, and as she saw tears of his own fall down his usually happy face.

His watery eyes were fixed upon her, as he held Abby like a father would a child, and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Were gonna get him, Abbs."

"I know." She replied, stepping away, and going back to her computer, leaving both him and Ziva in stone cold silence.

"I'm sorry you guys, but I need to be alone right now to go over the evidence. Thank you, for-for, uh for being my shoulders to cry on I guess." She said, managing a small, but undoubtedly fake smile

Tony and Ziva left the lab, and both looked at each other tiredly, before heading back to the squad room, where McGee lay asleep at his desk.

Gibbs was undoubtedly up in MTAC with Vance, and he and Ziva were stuck there alone, at 2:00 o clock in the morning.

She sat down, and placed her head buried in her hands, her dark hair now completely loose from the ponytail, and it fell loosely around her covered face.

Her back was shaking, and he knew she was crying, and wondered how she had learned to do so without making a single sound.

He supposed he had never looked at her in this light before, at her absolute low, and he realized, that since Somalia, she had always seemed fragile, ready to break, and now she had just shattered, and was struggling to put the pieces back together.

"Hey, Ziver." He said, using Gibbs pet name, and she raised her head, and looked at him, cheeks wet.

"I cannot seem to stop crying, Tony." She said, an ironic, twisted smile forming itself unfittingly onto her face.

"Me neither, Ziva." He said, smiling ironically straight back at her. However, he had a question on his mind, and was determined to ask it.

"Ziva," he began, hesitantly, not sure he wanted to ask, but his curiosity and concern getting the better of him, and so he got straight to the point.

"What happened in Somalia?"


	3. Chapter 3

She stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes wide with surprise, and he saw beneath the surface, pain.

Then she stood up abruptly, said something beneath her breath which sounded suspiciously like.

"Errands."

Then rushed for the elevator.

"Hey!" he called after her, not about to let her get away. "Ziva!"

He just managed to get in the elevator before the doors closed, and then flicked the power switch, leaving them in pale, blue light.

She tried to reach for the button, but he stood in front of it, not allowing her to hit it.

"Tony, I command you move now." She said between her teeth, and he could see she was holding herself together by pieces.

"No." he replied simply, holding her back as she tried to rush him.

"Tony, it has been a long and difficult day, you know that as well as I do, and I would like to go home." She said, looking him in the eye like she might a child who didn't understand a math question.

"I'm not letting you leave until you answer my question." He said simply, not looking at her with pity, as tears began to fall again, spilling out of her angry eyes.

"It is none of your business!" she declared, pushing him aside, and pressing the button.

However, he just reached and flicked it off again; now angry with her, despite how much he cared for her.

"None of my business? How can it be none of my fucking business? In case you don't remember, I'm the one who came and rescued you from that hellhole. And excuse me if I noticed that my partner hasn't been the same since, and am concerned!" he shouted straight back at her, regretting the words as soon as they were said.

However, she just eyed him with that steely determination that he feared so much, yet was one of his favourite qualities about her.

"Tony, let me leave. I appreciate your concern; however, I do not expect you to be concerned for me. As you said, we are just partners."

With those words which were so obviously not her true words, he let her flick the button, and watched as she walked out of the small encasing, into the parkade, and drive wildly away in the dark of night.

Finally, he managed to get himself to his own car, and drive home.

A half hour later, he was seated in his own apartment, staring at the blank walls, and drinking a large bottle of god knows what. All he knew was that it had alcohol, and it was numbing him, until he could feel blessed nothing again.

Franks was dead.

A twinge of his old pain filtered through him, but he quickly pushed it away.

Then he managed to think about E.J, and it flashed through him, and then, it was gone too, as he fell into a drunken slumber, and dreamt of the girl he would never see again.

And the friend he had probably just lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Ziva sat in her apartment, shivering violently.

He had _no_ right to ask her that. None.

How the hell was it any of his business?

Her back was pressed against the wall, her hands curled around her knees, and she felt disgust at the way she was behaving.

Like a two year old child, who couldn't accept death as a part of life, and was being whiny and attention hogging.

Yet, it wasn't E.J, or even Mike's death that caused her to be so broken, or shattered. They were just the push that set the dominoes in motion.

It had all started with Somalia, and then it had been a downward spiral since there.

She could tell no one, not even Gibbs.

The flashback came violently and with no warning, rendering her helpless to her own memories, as she fought against herself, and lost.

_ "You will answer to me! You fucking good for nothing Jew!" Saleem yelled, ploughing his boot into her already broken ribs. She screamed shrilly, agony pouring through her every fibre, like a fire burning itself into her very being. Yet she managed to hold herself together, and look at him._

"_I will tell you nothing, you bastard." She spoke, and it wasn't until he kicked her in the face, she realized she had choked out the words in Hebrew._

"_Don't speak your devils tongue to me, you insolent little whore! I own you! I am in control!" and as he screamed it, sheer madness in his deep eyes, he showed her exactly how he was in control, tearing off her clothes, moving over top of her, and then she felt nothing but an excruciating pain, and a shame and depression she couldn't push away, as he violated her, treated her like a mare in heat, and drove into her with such force, that not only did he break her body, he broke her mind…_

She jerked back with such force, that she flew upwards, a scream tearing itself from her throat, sobs racking her spine.

"No!" she whispered loudly into the empty room. "I cannot do this anymore!"

And though she knew it would be a better idea to pick up the phone and call Abby, or maybe Tony even, she wasn't thinking as she walked into her bathroom.

And a moment later, in her hand, she held a small, square razor blade, shining like death, as her tears dripped onto it, and she fell to the floor, placing the shine of death on her wrist…


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Tony woke with a killer hangover, and a need for something he knew he couldn't have.

More alcohol.

He knew that he didn't have any left in the fridge, and he had work, so he put aside the longing, knowing he wasn't going to fall back down that path again, and reluctantly got himself dressed.

It was warm outside, and the summer sun mocked him with a happiness that seemed just plain wrong.

How the hell could anyone be cheerful on a day like today?

Yet, when he walked out the door in a button up T-shirt that was suitable for work, he had to admit, the sun was nice.

But that didn't change the fact that both Mike and E.J were dead, and he had to deal with it some other way than getting wasted every night.

The drive to work was silent, because he was dreading walking in that door, and seeing the empty desk where she usually sat, dreading having to go down to autopsy to study her remains, and he dreaded the fact that the man who had killed her was still walking amongst them, like he could grab another person he cared about, and kill them at any minute.

When he arrived, he took a deep breath at the door, before walking in, and facing the sight of the elevator glaring at him.

Even the fucking elevator wasn't safe.

Yet he forced himself in, and pressed the button.

He forced back the flashes of memories, E.J smiling, E.J lost in thought, her face solemn and determined on her hunt for her killer

When he stepped into the Squad room, he was shaking with the force of trying to push back his own frigging memories. And to hold his control together, as he saw Ziva at her desk, staring blankly at his empty one.

He walked forward, and placed his hand on her shoulder; she flinched slightly, and then focused her dark eyes on his.

"Yes, Tony?" She asked, her voice eerily calm.

"Are you okay?" He replied, slightly confused. This was coming from the girl he had comforted on the bathroom floor not too long ago.

"I am fine. How are you?" She asked, in that creepy, and disconcerting tone of voice. She sounded like a robot, no emotion whatsoever in her flat, slightly accented voice.

"I'm fine. Listen Z, I know E.J's death was as hard on you as it was on me-"

"I do not wish to speak of that right now, Tony." She interrupted swiftly, fingering the hem of her sweater. And even though it was a warmer day, he saw she was heavily clothed, in a long sleeve turtleneck, and a long, dark, pair of jeans.

He eyed her for a moment, then, as confused as ever, sat down at his desk.

The squad room was unusually silent that day, as Gibbs sat at his desk and waited for anything, anything that could help them. As tony sat at his and studied Ziva, and as Ziva stared blankly into space, as if she wasn't feeling anything, and McGee was down in the lab with Abby.

When Ducky walked up, it was to find a solemn, mournful atmosphere, and as Tony saw him walk in, he flinched and wished he was invisible, because he knew exactly what Ducky was here for.

"Jethro, I know it is a terrible time to ask, and you are all mourning the death of two close friends, but I do need you to come and look at the remains." He said, holding his hat in his withered hands, his blue scrubs stained with E.J or Frank's blood. Tony had no way of knowing whose it was.

But instead of allowing anyone else to suffer that way, he stood up, and in a strong voice which belied his aching heart, he said

"I'll do it ducky."

Everyone looked at him; even the Ziva Robot woke from her little trance to stare at him with surprised eyes.

"Ah, Anthony, I suppose you know how Agent Barret died, it is not, well, a pretty sight my dear boy." Ducky said, walking over and placing his hand on Tony's shoulder.

Frankly, He didn't care anymore. "Duck, I know what it's gonna look like, I've already seen it on the monitor. I know her hairs gonna be matted with blood, I know half of her face is gonna be blown off. I don't give a damn; I'm the one doing it. No one else is gonna suffer like that, if it has to be me, than that's the way it is."

And with that, he walked towards the elevator, ignoring Ducky's protest as he followed him in.

"That was a very kind thing for you to do, Anthony." Ducky said after a minute of silence, placing his hand on Tony's shoulder.

But tony reached over and flicked off the switch, looking at Ducky, his words catching in his throat.

"Yes, Anthony?" Ducky asked, with the patience of both a friend and a therapist.

"I- I think something's wrong with Ziva." He said, watching as Ducky's eyes narrowed slightly and then he sighed.

"You've seen it too, haven't you?" He asked, with an accusatory tone, even though he knew he was being a bastard.

"Yes. Yes I have Anthony, however, I believe Ziva's mental health is her personal business, and it would be best of we stayed out of it. Now, what I was going to sa-"

"I think it has something to do with Somalia." He interrupted again, not giving up.

"Well, I could only imagine what she went through there, I mean, what with being held hostage-"

"I think it's more than that though, Duck, I think none of us have truly any idea what went on there, what they used against her, how they used it. It's anyone's best guess." He said, and watched as Ducky's face tightened, and then relaxed again.

"I do agree with you, my dear boy. She has not been the same since, however it is none of our business."

"None of our business!" He yelled incredulously. "None of our fucking business when she's breaking apart like a frigging china doll, and all I can do is sit there and watch her break apart, piece by piece, fragment by fragment. Goddamnit, she's _hurting _Ducky."

Ducky stared at him for a moment, a critical look in his grey eyes, and then he sighed.

"She's not the only one, Anthony."


	6. Chapter 6

Had he ever felt so much pain?

Her hair, once beautifully blonde and always kept ineptly out of her way, now matted with blood. Her eyes, once a vibrant and caressing blue, now pallid and anaemic looking. Her face…. Oh god her face.

The tears ran hot and unexpected down his cheeks, whilst he fought back the bile in his throat. Ducky's hand tentatively touched his shoulder and he stood, cold as stone, looking at her, who was also, cold as stone.

"Why do you need me to see her?' He asked, his voice sounding like it was coming from a large tunnel.

"Be- because of something I found on her." Stammered Ducky. "I knew that, well, you and her were, shall we say, together, but Anthony, this was found in her pocket."

And he pulled out a diamond encrusted ring, which was etched with small swirls and shone a brilliant gold.

Tony sank to the floor in a dead faint.

In his dreams, he saw himself pull the ring out of his pocket, hand it to her with a smile on her face, tears filling those brilliant blue eyes.

"_Will you marry me, E.J?" He heard his own voice say, and saw her nod, then, in a flash, he saw her killer come up from behind, and shoot her, so she died in his arms, her blood spilling on him, but it was strangely cold, ice cold in fact…_

Tony was coughing, as he rose from the ground and saw that Ducky had poured cold water on his face, he reached over and zipped up E.J's body bag, making sure to get one last look at her ruined face, then wrenched the ring from Ducky's hand and placed it in his pocket.

"You won't tell Gibbs." He said, and it was not a question, but rather a statement, as he strode angrily away from the morgue, denying the tears on his face to be tears…

…..

Meanwhile, Ziva was thinking.

Thinking of anything but E.J, thinking of anything but Somalia, thinking rather, of the pain she felt on her arms.

The wounds were severe, she knew that. But she would not go to the hospital, she would take what came, she was after all, in control.

And as Tony strode into the room, his green eyes shining brilliantly, she looked away. She was not mad at him any longer, how could she stay mad at him, when she saw the pain in his eyes, heard the silent sobs, and felt his tangible grief from across the room.

No, she was not mad, he had loved her, he still did love her, and when she saw the glint of gold in his palm, she did not react. She simply looked away, she was, after all, in control.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony sat that night, holding a bottle of beer in his hand. It was unopened, and he knew it would be a damn sight to open it now, at 3 am in the morning, and get wasted just in time for work tomorrow.

The knock on the door was loud, insisting, and left him with no doubt of who was behind it. It was with regret, and yet gratitude he placed the bottle on the counter, and walked towards the door, swinging it open without hesitation.

Gibbs' icy blue eyes studied him, taking in his tear tracked face, his pale cheeks, and red rimmed eyes. And came to the most logical conclusion he could summon on the spot.

"Ah, hell, Tony. You look like shit." He said, coming in and closing the door behind him.

Tony chuckled softly, "Yeah, well…"

"Anything you wanna tell me, DiNozzo?" Asked Gibbs, in the quietest of undertones, and the expression in those cobalt eyes made Tony think he already knew, in fact, he was sure of it.

"Nothing you didn't already know, Boss." He said, sitting on the couch and placing his head in his hands. "God, this is all a fucking nightmare, I keep wondering when I'm gonna wake up." He looked up at Gibbs, who was standing above him. "Isn't that pathetic?" He chuckled through his tears.

Gibbs walked forward and placed his hand on Tony's trembling shoulder, for once, allowing himself to feel the agent's pain and grief.

"Boss, I know this is gonna be hard, but it's not me who needs the most help, it's Ziva." He said, looking up at Gibbs with moist green eyes, and hoping the flash of understanding was all in his head.

"And, why," said Gibbs, taking a seat next to him on the couch, "Do you say that?"

It was with shuddering breath, and a stammering voice that Tony told him his theories, about Somalia, about what might have happened to her, how she didn't seem quite the same…

When he finished, Gibbs nodded. "I'll ask her about it." He said, then standing up, and grabbing the bottle of god knows what off of the counter. He gave Tony a pointed glance.

"You won't be needing this, DiNozzo." He whispered, then left, leaving Tony, holding his head in his hands, and telling himself to save his strength.

He was going to need it.

….

It was 4 am and Ziva had no intentions of sleeping. Instead, she sat, shaking on her bed, fighting away the remains of her last nightmare.

"_Men!" Saleem yelled, a devilish grin spreading its way across his sadistic face. "Come here! I believe I have a treat for you!"_

"_No…" She heard her own voice say, choked with sobs and fear, "No, please, I am begging you, no more…"_

_But he leaned down and caressed his hand along her bruised neck, "You must learn to behave yourself… Or you will be punished and the consequences will be, " He paused as a horde of thirty men came into the room, all smiling nastily, then turned back to her and grinned, "Severe."_

_And with that, she was attacked, her pain ringing through her body, as her unheard screams rang through the damned night, and she felt herself fall until there was nothing left but the pain, the pain that was always there…._

"No! No! No!" she screamed and hurled herself off of her bed, reaching for the silver glint of metal that was so beautiful in the moonlight.

She had only made one cut, which bled profusely, when she heard the insistent knock on the door.

"Ziva! I know you're not asleep! Open up!"

She groaned as Ray's voice rang through her apartment, concerned and smooth, and as much as she loved him, she wished he would just leave. Leave her alone to bleed to death, to die escaping what had happened.

But he knocked again and again, and five minutes later, she had no choice but to grab a large sweatshirt, ignore the blood running down her arm, and sprint towards the door.

"One moment, honey!" She said, trying to sound cheerful, but her own voice sounded false to her ears. Her smile was large, and her demeanour was pleasant, and it would've worked, until he saw her pale cheeks and red rimmed eyes.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, striding in and taking her in his arms, little did he know, he was crushing her damaged wrist between the two of them, and she cried out in pain.

"Ziva, what the hell!" he asked, as she jumped away from him, tucking her arm safely behind her back.

"I- it's nothing, Ray, I was just…. I had a bad day is all." She said, smiling, but she could tell he didn't buy it.

"Ziva, tell me what's wrong, or by god, I will force it out of you." He said, not dangerously, but menacingly enough for her to fear he was telling the truth.

"I'm sorry, Ray, but it's nothing, like I said-"

"Like _hell _it's nothing! I could hear you screaming from down the hall!" He butted in, taking her by the arm, and releasing her as she let out a small cry of pain.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me."

She choked out, clutching her arm and backing away. Trying to stop the tears falling down her cheeks, as she doubled over in pain.

"Ziva, what's wrong with your arm?" He asked and stepped towards her, but she backed away, frightened and in pain.

"No! I'm not going to hurt you, just let me see." He said but she shook her head.

"No, Ray, I'm fine, really." She said, almost believably, until she felt her back hit solid wall and groaned as the cuts there burned with the contact.

"Ziva, Goddamnit!"

And before she could pull her arm away, before she could even protest, he had taken her sweater, and ripped it off of her, exposing her entire upper body.

Gashes, now healed, covered every inch of her flesh, some with stitches, and some without.

Lacerations covered her olive skin, marking her with violet and pearl scars, and newer ones bright crimson, covering every inch of flesh on her body. Her arms were marred, almost unrecognizable, and as Ray's eyes travelled there, she saw them fill with tears.

"Ziva, dear god, what have you done to yourself?" He asked, touching the newest one gently, and gasping as he felt the skin give way to an appallingly deep cut.

"I'm….. I'm sorry…" She gasped, and then fell to the floor in a dead faint, leaving Ray standing over her, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.


End file.
